


Ressurection Blues

by sian1359



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, M/M, Matchmaking, Not Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. Compliant, Trope Bingo Round 3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-22
Updated: 2014-01-22
Packaged: 2018-01-07 07:52:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1117387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sian1359/pseuds/sian1359
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes what you see before you can shine with a new light. Sometimes it takes someone else to send up the flare.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ressurection Blues

**Author's Note:**

  * For [smaragdbird](https://archiveofourown.org/users/smaragdbird/gifts).



> I tried for Agents of SHIELD characters and matchmaking from Smaragbird's want list in this year's C/C Holiday exchange. Then Tony got involved and, well, this is the result.
> 
> My deepest gratitude to my beta.

Resurrection Blues

"Pepper, Pepper, love of my life."

"Tony, not now. As you can see, I'm in a meeting."

"Meetings are boring."

"Yes, they can be, which is why you  pay me lots of money to attend them on your behalf."

"Aha! You admitted, I pay you. Which means you acknowledge me as boss and that also means that I'm their boss, so I can say ix-nay on the eeting-may."

"Do you really want to go with you are the boss of me?"

"Ah… no. But it's really important."

"Tony."

"Really, really important."

"I'm sorry, gentlemen. If you could give me five minutes."

"Of course, Ms. Potts."

"Certainly, ma'am."

"Do you really make them call you Ms. and Ma'am?"

"Two minutes, Tony."

"But you said five."

"The other three are to give me a chance to take an aspirin. And now you have one minute forty-five."

"Okay, sorry. I'll send you a bouquet of aspirin."

"A minute thirty."

"You are compressing time, but fine. We need to do something about Agent and Birdbrain."

"… "

"No, really! It's been over two years since Agent came back from the dead and nearly six months since he started hanging around the Tower when he's not in his stupid Bus. I thought they were supposed to spies and observant and shit. How have they not noticed they're crazy about each other?"

"Oh, they've noticed. We've all noticed."

"Then why aren't they doing something about it? All this pining makes me think of Christmas and snow and I hate snow. Why do you think I rebuilt the house in Malibu?"

"Because you didn't want the state to rezone the property or take it under eminent domain and give that view to anyone else."

"Fine, true. But it was also to escape the snow, which you know very well, since you're the one who always asks first, when we can leave New York once winter starts."

"Are you really going to argue about snow or Malibu versus New York in your … fifteen seconds left?"

"No! We're going to discuss how to get our G-Man and Circus Boy together."

"No, we're not. You are out of time, only that doesn't matter because there is nothing to talk about since I won't be helping you. I love you, but good-bye. You need to leave my office now. It would be very helpful if you send back in Dr. Driscoll and Mr. Lawrence. I'll see you tonight, Tony."

"Remember this, Pepper. The next time we get a call out. Remember how you chose meetings over me; business over love. Sent me away."

"Yes I did. And am. Please close the door behind you on the way out."

"Sending me away to find someone else to help."

"Wait! What? Tony? Tony!"

******

While Phil wanted to do little more than scrub at his eyes and lever the seat back so he could sleep for the next three days, instead he unbuckled his seat belt and opened the door and then turned to look at Ward in the driver's seat. "Initial debrief will be in three hours, back here," he said not just to Ward, but also the rest of his team who occupied the seats behind them in the SUV. "Forward your details once you get assigned your temporary quarters. If all goes without interruptions, you should be free in time for dinner if you want to make plans, or I'm sure Stark and whichever of the others are around will be happy able to have you stay and join theirs."  He then shifted to look directly back at Simmons.

"Which of the cases has the sample we're turning over to Dr. Banner?"

"Actually, sir, Fitz and I thought we'd just run it up ourselves, if that's alright with you? And, sorry with you, Ward? Are you okay with waiting a few extra minutes before we go check in at Chez SHIELD?"

Phil could see Ward's lips thin at the idea, since a few minutes in Fitz and Simmons-speak generally turned into a least half an hour and could easily become more if Dr. Banner wasn't already engaged in something interesting in his labs. Ward made an effort to appear comfortable with the idea, however. It wasn't entirely successful, but then Ward's default look, even now after nearly a year as a team, was still one of discomfort or displeasure when dealing with the others socially.

Simmons was just about as good as Skye in ignoring it, however. Or she wasn't going to let anyone spoil her enjoyment of getting a chance to check in with one of her heroes.

At least it was supposed to only be the one. Pepper had already assured Phil just after the Bus had set down, that Tony was occupied with some project and wouldn't likely know Phil's team was back in New York until tonight's dinner, and that was assuming Tony was far enough along in whatever he was working on to surface then. For the most part, each team gave the other one space for a day when coming back from missions, as long as no one had gotten hurt or the return didn't presage a new crisis that needed all of them working together. 

There were exceptions, of course, as both Natasha and Clint made a point of checking in within minutes of JARVIS announcing that Phil had made his way into the Tower, and Phil himself had yet to manage staying away from the landing pad or the common room if he was in residence when the Avengers made it back from a call out despite him having moved in nearly five months ago. But those were just old habits and personal inclinations; nothing formalized or extending throughout all of the various peoples involved.

"Actually, why don't we all go on up now?" May suggested. "We can get a retrieval team assigned to pick up the other samples from the Tower instead of us having to fight the traffic over to Central and then to our residential assignments; just log in from here and pick up the keys on arrival. I, for one, would rather get the debrief out of the way and not have to worry about going back out in a couple of hours, especially given we have the next three days off to ourselves."

"Oh yes, please. Can we, AC?"

As with most of May's suggestions, it wasn't so much a suggestion as it was her way of nicely pointing out that Phil had made a dubious call without challenging his authority directly. She wore her inscrutable mask when Phil looked back, while Skye, from her seat next to May, made no effort to hide her eagerness at the idea.  Why she might be so eager escaped Phil; she'd pretty much gotten over being star struck around the Avengers after neither Stark or JARVIS had seemed impressed with her involvement with the Rising Tide nor shown any interest in helping her hone her hacking abilities.  The other Avengers were polite, of course, pleasant even, whenever Phil's team hung out, but there was still a divide between the two groups, from both the differences in clearance levels and types of missions, as well as from overall age and experience, with the latter two factors being the widest for Skye.

If Phil didn't know any better, he'd say that Skye was up to something, but the team had been out of the country for nearly a week while the Avengers had had two domestic call outs to deal with mutant animals and out-of-control robots during the same timeframe, so it wasn't as if their paths had crossed in any manner for Skye to have arranged anything or get caught up in something not SHIELD related. He wrote it off to her following May's lead in wanting to get an earlier start on her downtime.

"I have no objections."

Phil was lying, but not for any reasons that warranted him sticking to his initial plan, nor any that he cared to explain – even to himself, since they were selfish as well as counter-productive. Of course his people were eager to have time to themselves. Only Phil called New York home, in that home meant a place for his collectables that didn't fit on the Bus and he'd picked the bed sheets when he'd finally accepted that Stark had built and furnished an apartment for him in the Tower after the Avengers had found out Phil's death hadn't taken. For the others, it was still one of the most exciting and vibrant cities in the world, with plenty to do or explore, no matter how much or little time a person had to spend seeking it out.  All of the others, outside of Skye, had spent time enough at SHIELD Central to have made friends they could spend their downtime with. If Phil had burned a few too many of his own connections by agreeing to Fury's mandate of keeping the knowledge of Phil's survival secret for so long, well, that certainly shouldn't impact his team's time off, especially now when the secret no longer mattered.

"Great!"

Even Fitz seemed enthused, but then they'd had a sixteen hour flight followed by nearly two hours in the car to get to the Tower, so maybe everyone was just anxious to get a chance to stretch their legs in something more than a modified cargo space. Fitz was opening the sliding door pretty much as he cheered, with Simmons tumbling out right after him, the two of them then racing to the back but having to wait until Ward made his own way over with the keys so they could retrieve the sample case.

Skye and May were the last out, each with personal equipment in hand. Phil thought to make a comment about how leaving the computer and whatever May was clutching in the car would be safer here in the private level of the garage of Stark Tower than leaving it secured at Central or in their temporary housing, but didn't bother. Skye had been treating her electronics like a security blanket ever since he'd taken the monitor off of her wrist and May was quite likely bringing something in to show Natasha, since the two of them had resumed their sparring – and bazaar shopping – partnership.  It wasn't like either of the two of them would be carrying in a bomb, at least not unless it was already arranged, and if Skye was stupid enough to try and hack one of Stark's machines, she deserved whatever Stark or JARVIS did to her.

"We'll convene in the conference room in fifteen minutes," Phil instructed as he presented his palm to the scanner, then stepped forward to whisper his code phrase, both of which were needed to be granted access beyond the public levels of the Tower.

"I've meant to ask before," Ward suddenly spoke. "Is there a reason Stark doesn't use an iris scanner over the palm scanner? I would think it would be easier to scam a palm and fingerprint set – "

"That's why the voice print is also required," Phil said quickly, without explaining that the Avengers had decided unanimously against an iris scanner after Loki. Stuttgart wasn't something that needed to be relived every time someone came home.

 _Greetings Agents of SHIELD,_ JARVIS then welcomed them as the elevator doors opened, before Ward asked for any further explanation. _You are all well, I hope? And had a fruitful expedition?_

"Everyone is right as rain, J-Man," Skye answered before anyone else. She'd taken to a computer overlord better than the rest of them and, while Phil had his own relationship with Stark's sentient AI, he found no need to step on what seemed to be a budding friendship.

It really was easier to think – and act – like JARVIS was simply a voice in a headset, something every field agent not only got used to, but came to rely on eventually. JARVIS certainly fit that part of the bill and, frankly, he was easier to deal with than his creator or at least half the handlers Phil had had himself when he'd been solely an agent instead of an agent in charge.

 _Dr. Banner is awaiting the arrival of the samples in clean room Beta,_ JARVIS started his run down. _All Avengers are in residence, if there is anyone else someone needs contacted._

"I think we're good, JARVIS," Phil told him. "Fifteen minutes, people, including you, FitzSimmons," he then reminded the rest.

"Yes, sir."

"Of course."

Phil made a bet with himself that neither scientist would leave Bruce's lab on time, and that it would be Ward who went to fetch them before Phil bothered to do so himself.

********

 _Agent Coulson, Master Barton has asked that I let him know if you are free to speak with him before dinner,_ JARVIS spoke the instant Phil made his way out of his bedroom after changing out of his suit and into something casual as a way of trying to convince himself he was off the clock now for three days.

Phil appreciated JARVIS' thoughtfulness in not interrupting him while he'd been finishing his after action report and then signing off on the rest of his team's reports, but he found himself missing the days when Clint would have just barged into his office regardless of how busy Phil might have been. Although Phil had been welcomed as a resident and friend, and everyone mostly blamed Fury for the deception regarding Phil's death and resurrection, and even though six full months had passed since the truth had come out, things weren't where he'd hoped. Or even moving back toward how they'd been. Some of that was Phil's fault, for believing he could reclaim the rapport and camaraderie he'd once had when so many people had believed he'd been dead and had mourned and moved on. It wasn't as if Phil hadn't had to move on too, but there was still a small part of him that believed everyone's cautious consideration in maintaining propriety was also a form of subtle punishment; was Clint and Natasha's way, in particular, of not wanting to get too involved or close again. Theirs, more than any other relationship, was the one Phil regretted most in how it had changed.

"Does he want to come here, or should I – "

 _I believe it would be best if you were willing to go to him,_ JARVIS responded before Phil could start feeling any more sorry for himself and make further assumptions about why Clint never came to Phil's place, not since the first days after Phil had moved in.

_Master Barton is in the middle of prepping for an evening out, and it appears as if he is running late._

Phil blinked. If Clint was getting ready for some sort of dinner or event with any of the others, JARVIS would have said so; while the AI showed remarkable discretion and discernment when it came to answering questions or offering information, he could not lie, not even for Stark's sake. More than once he'd refused or had simply stated he was unable to answer, which often told them the gist of what they were trying to find out in the first place while keeping the details to himself and whomever he was protecting. JARVIS also didn't _volunteer_ information, certainly never thoughtlessly, which meant that in some way it was important for Phil to know why Clint was asking Phil to come to him. Phil couldn't imagine it was for dating advice now, since he'd never asked Phil something like that Before.

While Clint had never been the type to go out looking for a casual pick-up in the past, Phil supposed that now that Clint's public profile as an Avenger compromised any ability to go on undercover missions, Clint needn't worry about whether a stranger showing interest was an enemy agent or distraction from a mission, just if they were a gold digger or a stalker-slash-groupie. It was entirely possible Clint dated regularly now. It wasn't for Phil to keep track of his or any one's social life outside his direct team, and only then to insure that it wasn't interfering with or endangering SHIELD's mission. If, in the past, Clint had never dated outside fellow SHIELD operatives, it wasn't as if Clint really was a SHIELD operative anymore either, so that deference or inclination might also have changed.

Phil still couldn't help feeling at a loss from not knowing, regardless that it wasn't his business _to_ know any longer. Regardless that it shouldn't really matter.

"Where can I find him?" Had Clint simply been in his own apartment, Phil figured JARVIS would have invited him over on Clint's behalf from the get go.

_He is in transit to Mistress Romanoff's location. She is currently practicing her ballet in the Level Four studio. Sir is currently trailing behind Master Barton and they are having a … discussion. I suspect you would be most welcome, as each is growing frustrated at the other's stubbornness._

Since JARVIS only sounded amused as well as frustrated himself, Phil set aside any worry he might have begun feeling and headed out. He'd spent years mediating _discussions_ between Clint and other agents, and if he really thought about it, he suspected his own tone would have had the same kind of fond annoyance that JARVIS' held, had he been the one telling JARVIS or someone else of Clint and Stark's current situation.

As the elevator whisked him down to the fourth floor of the private levels of the Tower, Phil tried to put his melancholy behind him. If he was honest, he had a more active social life now than he'd had before he died, given he was always invited to the common meals the Avengers and their closest companions shared, plus there were movie and game nights, trips out into the New York night life, and he hadn't lost all of his friends from SHIELD during his absence, since 'need to know' and 'above your clearance level' were watchwords they all lived by. Sure, he had long days and weeks of missions, then the occasional debrief or stopover at other SHIELD facilities before the Bus would get the go ahead to return to Manhattan for a few days, but he'd always preferred to stay busy in the field or at HQ doing research and mission prep, so it wasn't as if he'd ever kept to some kind of regular going out schedule or had  done much dating himself over the years. If he felt lonelier now, well, that was just one more way in which he felt he'd come back different … even wrong in some ways, but that feeling wasn't necessarily _true_.

"Stark, for the last time, no! I do not need your help whether Pepper lets you play with her – Nat, tell Tony to go away!"

"Go away, Tony."

Phil couldn't help but shake his head as he exited the elevator and headed toward the salon. It sounded like things were normal between the three: Stark trying to get his way; Clint refusing to play along; Natasha standing up for her partner or simply enjoying stymying Stark herself.

Seeing that Stark had complied, leaving the room though he had stopped at the doorway and was looking back in, was not what Phil had been expecting.  Tony didn't look particularly upset, however, more like fascinated. Phil took a look himself.

"I was more than willing to help him with his make-up," Tony started talking, quietly for him, as Phil walked up. "Pepper lets me do hers all the time. But he insisted it had to be Natasha and came tearing down here although JARVIS said she was busy – "

"Don't take it personally. Clint doesn't let anyone get near his eyes. It took him years to trust me or Natasha, longer for him to trust any of SHIELD's optometrists."

"That makes sense, I guess."

"He trusts you, Tony," Phil said reassuringly in response to the waver in Stark's voice. "But it's like someone touching your arc reactor. If it has to be done, you'd prefer it to only be Pepper or Bruce, right?"

'Yeah, okay. That I get. And it's not like these two don't put on a good show. I would have thought the height difference would make things awkward, but he just put his hands under her ass and hosted her up like it was nothing. I'd expect that  from Steve or Thor, but even in the good porno, they probably cgi out the stool or use camera angles to make it look like a real human could fuck someone against a wall without at least three feet touching the floor. I mean shit... "

Phil did not need Stark mentioning porn in context with Clint and Natasha, no matter that he knew the truth of their relationship and had for years.  It was still too easy to imagine the two of them together, the sheer beauty of it or even more so, to imagine it would be all laughter and teasing like it was when those two sparred.  Still, he could understand Stark's fixation – and his feelings of inadequacy.

No matter how many times people got a chance to see the Amazing Hawkeye with a bow – or simply got a glimpse of Clint's bared arms – it was still difficult to comprehend the magnitude of his upper body strength, since most people's only examples of such muscle in the media and sports were the bulky wrestlers, bodybuilders or steroid abusers.  When Phil had first started working with Clint, he'd tried using a bow once, just to figure out the appeal. Phil's hadn't had even half the pull of one of Clint's, and he'd barely made the string move.

It wasn't this evidence of Clint's strength or even the general appeal of Clint and Natasha together that was holding Phil's attention, however.

Whatever Clint was doing tonight, he wasn't going out as Hawkeye or even, really, as Clint Barton. Since Clint was holding Natasha against his waist and the mirror-lined wall so she could apply eye liner in addition to the smudge of gray on his lids, Phil could see his entire transformation. His hair had been darkened nearly black first, then bleached platinum-blond with the dark roots clearly visible. It was also spiked stylishly in keeping with a dark-haired soul patch but no hint of the scruff Clint sometimes let grow into a beard. To match the upper look, Clint wore a only a tank-style undershirt, colored in the Navy shipboard camo pattern, along with dark gray BDU pants, a tactical belt and matching black boots and fingerless gloves. While Phil had his suspicion, it was only as Clint opened one eye and shifted just enough to acknowledge he was aware of his audience that Phil also saw the Ranger's tattoo now adorning Clint's right bicep and knew he was right.

"Jason Weber, Clint?"

Clint closed the eye again just as Natasha hit him with the hand that wasn't gripping the eye liner pencil. He let out a grin that Phil wasn't sure was for his behalf in figuring it out so quickly or as an unrepentant apology for messing up Natasha's line. What Phil was sure was that he wasn't finding this transformation to be something to smile about himself, even if it was fucking effective. No one was going to look at Clint and see an Avenger.

"SHIELD got a call for Jason a couple of days ago," Clint said with a shrug. "Turns out Otto Von Esquire is in New York with some important information he will only trust to Jason. Fury asked; I didn't see a reason to say no."

"Otto Von Esquire?" Stark started to say, but Phil tuned him out as he thought of all of the reasons Clint should have said no. Beginning with how Otto had never been a reliable source, although when he did bother to make a meet his info had always been of the highest magnitude and ending with Clint/Jason going into a meet and greet without Jason's partner, Paul.  It was obvious Clint had agreed to do this days before he'd found out whether Phil was going to be back from his own mission in time or not.

"If you're not taking Paul as your back-up, then who? Please say it isn't Stark or Captain Rogers." Dr. Banner could have been acceptable, if not for the whole turning into a gigantic green rage monster if things went sideways.

"Hey, I can do back-up." Tony actually sounded offended.

"Not in a gay bar, even if you were willing to shave your oh-so-stylish beard. And go in as a cross-dresser," Clint said with a laugh although the fond look he also sent Stark seemed enough to mollify Stark from taking further offense . "You're way too high profile, Tones. Steve is too, even if he could manage the crowd without ending up with a permanent blush and we really should do that at some point in his education in the modern world. Don't worry, Phil, Nat said she wouldn't mind. I was going to as Hill if she'd be up to going along as Tasha's date – "

That earned Clint another punch, this one hard enough that he had to take a step back although he still managed to keep his grip – and Natasha – steady and it looked like it wasn't just Clint's dating interests Phil had fallen behind on, even if this wasn't a real date.

" – but since you made it back in time, I was hoping I could ask Melinda if she'd be willing to go along instead, as I like my balls – "

"Who do you have running the van?" Phil asked over Stark – and Natasha's – laugh, mollified enough with Clint's answer since there was no one better he could trust than Natasha to have Clint's back, including even his own former self in the Paul persona or not. May was definitely a good choice as a second, assuming she wasn't already deep into whatever plans she'd made for her time off, or how amusing it would be to witness Clint calling up Deputy Director Maria Hill to ask a favor and a last minute one at that. 

But neither Jasper nor Jimmy Woo were in New York right now from what Phil remembered, and the number of other handlers Clint or Natasha trusted was limited. Though, of course, they were both professionals of the highest caliber and could work with anyone if it became a necessity, especially if it only needed to be the one time.

"Since we're going to be using Stark tech and JARVIS would have us, we didn't _need_ an outside man but, if you're not too wiped out from your last mission, I was hoping you'd be up for it, sir?" Clint asked with one of his sweet smiles although it quickly devolved into a smirk. "Unless you would rather pull Paul Carson out of the closet and come with me to meet up with Otto?"

While there was a part of Phil that wanted exactly that, he knew the answer had to be no.  For personal as well as professional reasons.

"I think Paul's getting a little too old to keep up with Jason," Phil said with a gesture to Clint's current look. Six years had passed since the last time they'd needed to assume the roles as Jason and Paul, and Phil felt every one of those years and more, while Clint might as well have a picture aging in his closet. Phil was under no illusion that he had aged half as gracefully, especially after this last year of recovery and rehab.

The sweet smile returned. "You look fine, Phil. And Jason would have no problem in slowing down for Paul. But if you're more comfortable running the op than being in it, I have no objections. I'm just happy you're willing to take any part. If there's going to be someone in my ear, I'm happy it's going to be you. No offence, JARVIS."

_None taken, sir. If I may take the liberty of monitoring anyway?_

"Sure and thanks. Just run anything odd you see through Coulson instead of trying to explain it to Tony or calling it into SHIELD. Let him make the final calls."

_Of course, sir. Sirs._

"Yes, that's fine, JARVIS," Phil replied, for want of anything better to say given his mix of feelings that even he was having trouble understanding.

That seemed to signal things were done, as Clint relaxed his hold on Natasha and she slid down his body. In the next instant, the two of them turned and started coming Phil and Tony's direction. Seeing Clint through the mirror as a reflection had been one thing; seeing him directly, along with the slink that he had developed as Jason's walk was something else entirely. Tony seemed to think so too.

"Jesus, even Steve would hit that," Tony muttered. "Hey, Agent, do you think he'd be up for a threesome with me and Pepper?"

Phil's immediate answer was no, but he swallowed it, along with several completely inappropriate imaginings of Clint with Pepper and a third man who was definitely not Tony Stark.

Well, fuck.

*******

Half an hour into the op, Phil was beginning to rethink his decision to take van duty over the raucous, over-crowded nightclub. Given that they were using not only Stark's comm and monitoring tech, but also one of his vehicles, an actual cargo van that had been set up to transport tools and equipment but had quite easily been retrofitted to handle screens, drives and servers, Stark had insisted on coming along. He had, at least, agreed that Happy Hogan was too high profile as a driver, as well as allowed SHIELD to provide temporary plates and a registration that showed the vehicle as belonging to New York's Department of Transportation. Not once had he tried to leave the vehicle or otherwise call attention to it or to a roped-in Ward (who was playing the part as driver as well as the DOT employee out on the street fiddling with a traffic light control box). What Stark _was_ doing was providing color commentary to practically everything Clint, Natasha or May were doing, and nothing Phil had said, ordered or asked was getting him to stop. The only saving grace was that Stark wasn't on comms himself for the others to also hear his innuendos and bad porn dialogue, although Phil was very tempted to request a copy of the audio that he _knew_ JARVIS was recording despite the interior set-up, so that he could make sure Natasha got a chance to listen afterward and let her take out her vengeance on everyone's behalf.

"I knew Cupid had once been a circus performer, but how can he still be that flexible?"

"Stark, please," Phil tried, for like the twentieth time.

"Oh, come on, Agent. Are you seriously trying to tell me that this isn't the best? Girl on girl action; boy on boy; three of your hot friends dancing and macking and basically in the set-up phase of some really good porn. Okay, sure, we're all damn hot, even your stick-up-his-ass sniper, so it's not like you don't have eye candy every day, but if your team or my team or, hell, both teams together ever decided to have an orgy and film it, we'd clear the Avengers, SHIELD and SI's operating budgets in a week. Between Darcy's and Natasha's tits, Steve, Bruce and Ward's asses, Clint's arms, well and his ass – "

Phil wanted to close his eyes and bang his head against the nearest hard surface – or bang Stark's head, that would be better – since closing his  eyes would only give the visuals that Stark was conjuring better hold over the reality of what was going on in the club, which was bad enough –

"Tony, stop. Just stop. This is a serious mission and I have a job to do watching our peoples' backs and making sure they aren't endangered. I can't afford to be distracted and miss a cue or a call – "

"Like telling Clint that kissing his snitch is maybe taking things a little too damn far?"

Phil whipped his head back from Stark's shocked expression to look at the monitor himself. While Natasha might go so far in an op just to cement her cover, Clint didn't engage in any body contact beyond standard handshakes or greetings, and in an instance like this, dancing, unless it was absolutely necessary, even to the point of mission failure when previous handlers hadn't bothered to pay attention to the note in his file that Clint didn't do honey-trap missions. Which this wasn't. Would never be, as Jason liked Otto Von Esquire even less than Clint did.

"Natasha?"

"I don't know," she came back with no louder than a whisper, not to mention that her own face was buried in May's shoulder and hidden by both of their hair. "He's not had any drinks but bottled water that he cracked open himself. I suppose Otto could be transferring his information through some sort of oral contact, if it was a key or something, but he's never been that paranoid before."

"Maybe he just didn't want to pass on a chance to give our boy the tongue," Tony offered, since the comms played live in the van. "I mean, would you?"

"Give me your shirt, Stark!"

"Excuse me?"

"Give me your god damn shirt. Now. Put on one of the comms and do not take your eyes off the monitors or offer any fucking commentary unless you're telling Ward to go in with his gun out. Do you understand?"

Phil didn't really care if Stark understood or not, not as long as he was complying, which he was. He was also a fucking genius, as he was so quick to point out, and so he began to look troubled when Phil exchanged his own shirt for Stark's much more expensive one, then grabbed up the leather jacket Clint had decided to leave in the van given the size of the crowd that had just been trying to get into the club, so Phil could tuck his gun between his waistband and back.

Paul Carson might not be in Tony Stark's league when it came to money, but he had enough to have the same kind of wardrobe, as well as a taste for all of the finer things. Including Jason Weber, who might flirt with anything that moved, but never strayed. Most of Carson's persona was manner and personality anyway, not his clothes or look, but Phil did grab up his glasses from his briefcase and jerk those one before he slammed out the back of the van.

Arrogance and expectation got him through the crowd, then through the bouncer with little delay. Once inside the club, Phil had to adjust to seeing the room as a whole instead of the bits that the cameras his three agents wore showed in a live feed. Clint had been out on the dance floor when Otto had started getting hot and heavy, and even if the exchange had gone down in that fashion and was now over, neither man would have immediately separated or started to head out in case there were more people watching than those on Clint's behalf.

While Clint was not the only blond with spikey hair out on the floor, Phil had spent years having his asset's back, either fighting alongside, or watching him in action from a similar position as tonight's. He'd seen Clint in all of his moods and all of his moves. If he'd never before today, actually considered Clint as a sexual being instead of an aesthetic pleasure, he'd still seen Clint making out with Natasha or another agent to further a mission, and had been on the receiving end of comfort when he'd been the one injured and Clint the one providing aid. Finding him now was only a chore in that Paul wanted to rip Otto away from Jason, while Phil _needed_ to get Otto away from Clint, jealousy and fear twining together until Phil could scream from it.

Instead he moved calmly but with intent, his expression or focus enough to get all but the most hapless and drunk moving out of his way without anyone raising a fuss, and the few of those Phil either sidestepped or were intercepted and playfully tugged aside by Natasha and May, the three of them circling closer toward Clint's position, neither woman making direct contact with Phil or in any way calling attention to themselves. Phil was close enough to see when Clint picked up on the maneuverings; saw him relax the tenseness that had crept into his shoulders even as he directed Otto's movements so he had Phil in his direct line of sight. A brief flutter of Clint's hand had Phil slowing down; had him taking a deep breath and pulling back on his – Paul's –  jealousy, but Phil didn't bother to smooth out the hint of it in his face.

''Otto, you remember my Paul?" Clint – Jason – said with a smile and a lingering touch along Otto's shoulder as Jason pulled away and tucked himself instead into Paul's side.

"I … when you came in alone, I thought … It's good – great to see you Paul. To see you two are still together after all these years. You're looking good, but then I imagine just trying to keep up with this one keeps you young." Otto's own expression was one of fear and resignation, but Phil also thought he saw a hint of bravado; as if Otto knew he'd gone too far, but that it had been worth it, and neither Paul nor Phil could really call him out over that bit of truth.

"You look the same as always, Otto," Paul responded back, in both lie and insult since Otto's lifestyle and paranoia seemed to be eating the man out from the inside, but also with a slight nod that told Otto that would be the end of it, assuming Otto remembered his place and the rules. That Paul did not share and that Jason would never stray, and to insinuate anything else would result in Otto being shut down. "I apologize for showing up late and only to end the night early, but I know you understand, my friend. Jason and I have somewhere we need to be."

Otto nodded, his expression a polite fiction no better than Paul's. "Hopefully we'll have more time to chat together, next time."

"Count on it," Paul promised, with a more genuine smile, but not one that Otto could take any comfort in.

In the past Otto had never cared who Paul and Jason worked for, had most likely assumed it someone on the merc side of an alphabet agency, and Phil saw no reason then or now to dissuade him of such an assumption. All Otto truly cared about was money and his own life, which is why his contacts with Jason had always been few and with months or even a couple of years between. In turn, SHIELD had never figured out for certain if Otto came out of hiding because he'd run out of money or because he feared the information that had come into his hands more. Clint had always given Otto the benefit of the doubt to say it was both, which is why he'd been the one to convince Fury to keep the contact open instead of pulling Otto in and taking him out of play when Phil had recommended exactly that.

"Don't be a stranger," Jason said by way of goodbye, content to stay leaning against Paul as they watched Otto do a pretty good disappearing act into the crowd. "I'm glad you showed up after all," he then said to Paul and twisted his head enough that they could kiss, in case someone was watching, of course.

Phil wasn't as content as Paul, however. He shifted Clint around until they were facing, until they were kissing for real, even though Paul had never so physically staked his claim before, having needed only words and manner in the past. For a moment Clint hesitated under his lips, leaving Phil to worry that he'd broken one more thing by seeing something that didn't exist, but then Clint brought up his left hand and placed it directly over the newest scar on Phil's chest before simply melting into Phil. When his other hand snaked around Phil's back and found the gun first before rising to brace the back scar as well, their kiss fell apart from their shared laughter.

_"It's about fucking time."_

Phil was going to murder Tony. Or thank him.

*******

"Pep, Pepper, she who gives me the purpose to get up each morning?"

"If you actually ever got up in the morning at the same time I did, or bothered coming to bed half of the time when normal people sleep, that might mean something, Tony. What did you need?"

"I need help – "

"No, Tony, I already told you no. No butting into other people's love lives. Not Phil's or Clint's or even Steve's – "

"Of course, not, Pepper. No matchmaking. It's not like they need my help anyway."

"Really? But the UST – "

"A thing of the past, if _you'd_ ever bother to come back to New York to see for yourself."

"My flight gets in, in two hours, Tony. That's been on your calendar and JARVIS' updates for the last three days. Along with our reservations for La Grenouille for tonight at nine?"

"Oh, right. Yes."

"What did you need, Tony?"

"You remember Skye, right? One of the Agent's goslings? She helped me out with a project a couple of weeks ago and I'd like to get her something that doesn't put Agent's panties in a twist or have her thinking I want or need to hire her or something. You're a girl like her – "

"We are both women, Tony – "

"Right, women, so you know what women like. Something that says thank you and you did good, kid, but don't get cocky – "

"Go away, Tony. Go play with Dummy or something, I've still got work to do before I can take the night off to spend with my loving fiancé who is going to buy me three new pairs of shoes."

"So I should get her shoes? Do I know her shoe size?"

"Do you know _mine_? No, I don't mean get Skye some shoes. If she did you a favor with a project, why don't you ask her if she's got something you could help her with in return? Along with a pair of shoes."

– finis  –

 

 

 


End file.
